Like Magic
by Vera Kate
Summary: A glimpse into Steve Saunder's life where even magic can be found in the most unexpected and unaware places. Part of my "Promises" series.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything! There are a few direct lines/situations from _The Summoning_.

Like Magic

Persuasion – it was the Saunders' family gift, if Steve's grandfather Charlie was to be believed. He grew up on stories about his great-grandfather Ralph and his business exploits. He always managed to be at the right place, right time, and more importantly, had the right goods.

Charlie followed in his father's footsteps, making the business even grander. Steve's father unfortunately, did not. Even more unfortunate, Steve lost his grandfather when he was ten.

His fondest memories growing up involved his grandfather, how he would explain to him how he would day take over the business, taking it to even higher levels. Instead of being a state-wide phenomenon, they would be national, or even go global. Charlie praised Steve to no end, he was confident that Steve had inherited the gift.

Tragedy struck.

A ten year old couldn't assume the business. Charlie had left it all to him, with his father acting in his place until he turned eighteen. Steve had a front row ticket to see his father run the family business that spanned three generations into the ground. His father brushed off his suggestions – saying that he was going on wild tales about his grandfather and that he needed to let the adults make the decisions.

He made a vow – he would resurrect the company when he turned eighteen, no matter the cost.

Steve's ability with people grew exponentially as he did. As a teenager, he oozed charisma that not only affected his peers, but more importantly, it affected adults. When he needed a job? He simply strolled into a business and he managed to find a job to his liking. It didn't matter if they weren't planning on hiring anytime soon or that business was slow, Steve made a case that the business _needed_ him.

He never sought to impose his will on others. He simply made a case and people tended to side with him once he was done. It wasn't his fault that people liked his logic.

Steve needed money but he wanted to try a few things out before finding another job. He was twenty-two now, starting his last year at university. His poison of choice? Accounting. He was committed to the vow that he made as a ten year old. If he was going to bring the company back, he was going to be involved in the money aspect. He had remembered that his father had let other's come in and then the company started hemorrhaging. His grandfather had been heavily involved in the accounting side and things ran smoothly for decades. Steve was convinced that it wasn't a coincidence that the moment outsiders came in, it all came crashing down.

Steve had a knack for numbers. He could make them do things that his classmates shook their heads in disbelief, saying that he had to be cheating somehow. Some called him a numbers magician. Steve simply saw things differently.

He ran a money lending business during college. Someone needed money for extra tutoring sessions? Some extra cash for a big fraternity party that they didn't have the cash upfront? He didn't care – he didn't have any morality assigned to the money. He lent it out and he was repaid – with gratuitous interest.

He kept it running a few months after graduation while he made different business plans to resurrect the family business. Or at least, that is what he told himself at night. He was becoming greedy, he could feel it. The numbers – they spoke to him. He could do so much more if he was able to expand his market out to neighboring towns. There were people living paycheck to paycheck in every town and city.

He expanded out to a neighboring city.

It proved out to be a mistake that would haunt him for years.

He had a borrower that was habitually making late payments when he made payments at all. He was going to have to send a message. He knew that reputation in business meant everything. If he had one saying that he was "soft", he knew that his dream would never be realized. He needed to show that he was serious.

At this point, he had hired a few guys to provide incentives for making sure the payment was always prompt and in full.

It was all a set up.

His price? Five years in jail for money laundering. He tried reasoning with the detectives. He pointed out that his money wasn't dirty. He reported everything to the IRS. He even had a business license.

It wasn't until they showed him the money that he saw that he had been had. The bills that his borrower had turned in were not the crisp, clean bills that he had picked up from the bank. These were well worn and the serial numbers were in sequences of hundreds.

Steve knew that persuasion wouldn't help him this time.

The first year in jail, Steve went over his steps. He tried to see where he went wrong. He knew that he was set up by another in the city. This would be too sophisticated for the police to scheme up on their own time. He had misjudged the scene. The player in town must have been established for decades before he arrived on the scene. He hadn't heard anything about a player – that should have been a warning, hindsight signaled.

The third and fourth years, he spent with head in books. He read about different numerical theories, higher calculus, history, and countless business theories.

Year five was spent trying to remain patient. He had a plan. He simply had to bide his time to not repeat his rookie mistake.

Steve ran the unnamed player out of town in less than six months. There wasn't any bloodshed; there wasn't anything illegal about it. It was simply business. He offered a better deal than what was previously going around.

Now that his thirst for revenge was sated, he could put his plan into action.

He had obsessed over the market trends. He knew the next boom – gas, oil, and real estate – was drawing closer by the second.

He re-opened the business and turned a profit after the second quarter. He started in real estate – he found a pleasure in dealing with something that he could plaster his name on. It was also practical. While the building was being renovated, he would use part of it as his temporary home.

He continued on for several years – the business growing more and more. He knew that his grandfather would be proud of him. Steve questioned whether his father would – or if he would have been bitter to see that he was right all of those many years ago. Not that it mattered much – Steve's father had passed away from a sudden heart attack while he was in prison.

The constant chaos was intoxicating. He went over the books every night – a practice he kept still. He needed to see exactly how the numbers were being worked. Often times, he found a way that was better than what the lower levels had thought of. It worked out for everyone – it was better for the business, it was better for the consumer, and thusly, it increased business. They could do a better job for less money than other companies could with twice the capital.

The numbers were intoxicating.

His world changed when he stopped for a cup of coffee. He normally wasn't in this area of town but there was a possible deal floating around involving a remodel and expansion of the main city hospital. Steve wanted to attend this meeting personally.

He was waiting in line when his attention was entrapped by the laugh of a woman. He looked around and saw her sitting with another woman near the door. The non-laughing woman wore scrubs and a look of exhaustion. The other wore life – her smile lite up the room, her eyes twinkled.

"Steve!" A sharp jolt of reality. His coffee. He grabbed it and looked back over to the women only to see that the scrubbed one had slipped out. The other was checking her watch and gathering up her things.

He hurried over to her and introduced himself.

Jennifer wanted a house – no, she wanted a _home_. Steve was more than content to keep up their nomadic existence – moving from apartment to apartment. Jennifer insisted that they needed to put down roots somewhere.

He knew that she was going to push the baby idea again.

Jennifer insisted that she needed a house to feel safe. She argued that if they could stop their whirlwind, a baby would happen.

Jennifer wanted a baby so badly. Steve would do whatever needed to happen to make it happen.

They tried for a year before Jennifer went and saw the gynecologist. Steve had a business meeting that day.

He came home and found Lauren waiting for him in the living room.

"Where is Jennifer?"

"It was a rough day," Lauren said as she leaned against the couch. "She could have used you there, at the appointment."

"Jennifer knows that I had business to attend to."

Lauren pursed her lips. "Your wife needed you there."

Steve gave her a quizzical look.

"Yes, Steve, I went with her," she spat. She had her opinions about his busy work schedule. If she could find time as a surgical resident to go to an appointment, it didn't speak highly of his husbandly duties.

"She didn't tell me it was that serious," he finished shrugging off his coat and put it in the hall closet. "It was just her standard check-up and she was going to ask if there was anything she could -"

"She?" Lauren cut him off. "Listen – a baby needs two parents. I will not cover you for that."

Silence.

Steve was almost to the kitchen when Lauren spoke again.

"The doctor suggested adoption. But we all know that isn't an option."

He flinched. He looked back to Lauren, who was teary eyed.

"She is upstairs. She's been up there since we've been back."

Lauren left. Steve was left alone to try to put Jennifer's heart back together. He knew that it never would be – not until there was another person to help hold the pieces together.

Steve opened the front door and heard Jennifer talking. She finally seemed to be climbing out of her depression. He had barely set his briefcase on the floor when he heard her laugh. It warmed his heart. It had been too long since he heard her laugh like that.

"How do you think he's going to react?"

"Happy, I hope!"

Steve strained his ears. This far away – they must be in the kitchen – Jennifer and Lauren could almost pass for each other. When Jennifer first mentioned she had a twin, Steve had thought it was Lauren. It ended up that she _had_ a twin brother, Ben, who died several years ago.

"And … that problem, it won't be an issue?"

"I wouldn't have brought this to you if I thought it would be," said Lauren.

Steve rounded the corner and the two looked as though they were caught in the middle of plotting something.

Jennifer leapt out of her chair and hugged him.

"Lauren brought me the greatest news, Steve! You remember that new job she picked up with that research group? They're starting the final trial on fertility drugs and we can join it!" Jennifer squealed, bouncing on the tips of her toes.

"We've had very promising run in all of the simulations," Lauren added.

"And all of this is safe?"

"Yes! Lauren can go into the science mumbo jumbo part of it but it's practically guaranteed to work," Jennifer grinned. Steve swore the room was brighter as a result.

Steve sat down and listened to what they had to say.

Jennifer was one of those women who glowed when they were pregnant. She was nauseatingly cheerful.

It was one of the best times of Steve's life.

Steve found that being a father was rewarding in a way that manipulating numbers wasn't. He liked to imagine that Jennifer was that boisterous when she was a little girl. Chloe could have almost passed for a spitting image of Jennifer – she had her strawberry blonde hair, her fair complexion, her laugh.

For the first time in his life, work remained at work – or at least until after Chloe and Jennifer had both gone to bed. He still performed his nightly ritual of going over the books, making sure the numbers were telling him what he wanted.

He would always check on Chloe before turning in. Often times he would have to re-tuck her in. She was definitely Jennifer's daughter. The first winter they spent in the apartment together, he liked to remind Jennifer that he almost froze to death multiple times. She would first hog the sheets and then kick them off the bed once she grew too hot. How the cold didn't wake either one of them up, he never could figure it out.

"I thought you said they were going to make sure that wasn't passed on," Steve overheard Jennifer talking into the phone.

"There is no way she is making this up. She", a pause for a few moments. "Listen, you need to find something, she's scared." The last portion was in a tone that Steve had only heard Jennifer use a handful of times. Whatever she was talking about, she was not taking no for an answer.

Steve gave a knock on the kitchen doorway and Jennifer spun around, the telephone cord wrapping around her.

"Right, Lauren? I've got to go, but you'll get it for me?" Another pause. "Thank you, I'll talk to you later."

"What was that about," Steve asked.

"Oh," Jennifer sighed, untangling herself. "It's nothing really. Lauren was telling me about one of her coworkers finding some magic cure that worked on their daughter and her being scared of the dark. I've gone through about everything I can think of, but something has to work."

Date night. They didn't happen as often as Steve would have liked. It was simply the reality of many young parents – trying to achieve the balance of family, work, and the spouse. He certainly enjoyed when they all went out as a family, but it was a different type of enjoyment. He never could quite relax – Chloe would always find the one millisecond they were both occupied with something else and find something to get into.

They hadn't had date night for several months. It was his fault – last minute business always seemed to pop up. Jennifer would simply laugh and tell him to go and tend to his numbers. She seemed a bit mixed at date night. She enjoyed having adult time, but she didn't like being separated from Chloe. She described it to him as having doubts about something not being quite right. She frequently compared to how Steve would double check his briefcase every morning before he headed out – verifying that he wasn't forgetting something. Steve chalked it up to her maternal instincts and Chloe's strong need and attachment to her.

He looked over at her – she was tired now. They had gone out for dinner and a movie. It wasn't glamorous but it was a break from their daily lives. Seeing a non-animated movie and a restaurant that didn't offer a toy with a kids' meal? It was a refreshing change.

"You know," Jennifer started, "now that Chloe is a bit older, I think she'd like a sibling."

Steve looked over at her, her face brimming with excitement.

"Sure," Jennifer continued, excitedly babbling on, "going from one to two will be an adjustment, but I want Chloe to have at least one sibling. I want her to have what I had growing up."

Steve chuckled. "And when was the last time I ever told you no?"

Jennifer beamed at him, and turned to look out her window. "Watch – !" she screamed.

The sound was followed by the crunching of metal.

Steve was an excellent negotiator. Whenever the company acquired a new company or was making a contract with a new company, he always made sure he was the one working the deal. He wanted them to have a face to put to the cooperation letterhead. He could always find a way to tweak contracts or deals to the satisfaction of both parties.

He was not experienced in defeat.

As hard as he worked, he could not negotiate this matter. No matter how hard he tried, how many hours he sat there, this was a staring contest he could not win.

He couldn't negotiate with Jennifer's heart to continue beating.

Steve left her hospital room hours after they had removed her. He was glued to his chair. He stared at the floor. This was the last place she had been alive. This foul, this sterile, this cold place – it wasn't supposed to be like this.

They had just made plans – not trivial "what are we doing this week" plans, but _family_ plans, _life_ plans.

Chloe.

Somehow she had slipped through his thoughts and guilt sobered his grief stricken mind. How was he supposed to explain this to her?

Lauren had been watching Chloe while they were out on date night. Chloe should have been in bed hours before the car hit them. He looked to his watch – just after sunrise. She would be waking up soon, expecting Jennifer to be humming in the kitchen, cooking up pancakes.

His stomach hurled and he stiffly leaned over to the trashcan next to him. He had nothing left but his stomach rolled in protest.

He should have tried to calm himself but he let himself be carried away by the waves. Once it passed, he stood up and looked around the room. He excused himself, as if Jennifer was still there, and left.

He sat opposite Lauren, the lawyer sat at the head of the table. It was another ridiculous thing they had to go through. They had to settle Jennifer's estate.

Steve remembered how Jennifer laughed at him when he first made the appointment. "You really are a businessman at heart."

"There isn't anything wrong with being prepared. If something should ever happen," he trailed off, taking her hand, "this is a map for the other. And like hell am I letting you turn the company into mass producing poodle wigs."

Jennifer had laughed at him. What he wouldn't give to hear her laugh again.

"This is all pretty straightforward, as expected. When Mrs. Saunders' will was drawn up, her only child Chloe had already been born. Most of her estate is to be shared between Steve and Chloe, with a generous portion of her liquid estate marked as being designated for a live-in nanny. She has enclosed a letter expressing her wishes and a few recommendations. Lauren, she has set some of her childhood belongings in your care until Chloe expresses an interest and is old enough to take care of them. If she does not, they are yours for the keeping."

The lawyer droned one. Steve could feel Lauren's eyes bearing into his skull.

The meeting finished – Steve presumed, as people were gathering up their belongings and exiting.

Lauren was the only one left waiting for the elevator. Not sharing a word, they stepped in. The doors dinged closed and they began their descent.

"I know you were behind it."

Steve looked at Lauren.

"You can play dumb with everyone, the mourning husband, the clueless absentee father, all you like," Lauren continued, venom soaking each word, staring at the doors. "I know _what_ you are Steve. I should have said something a long time ago but for Jennifer's sake, I held my tongue. But she is gone and I know you are behind it somehow. I know everything that you've done, illegal and otherwise. And you can think now that Jennifer's gone, you can block me out but you can't. Chloe needs me, more than you could ever know. No nanny can replace me or what I know."

"You can't possibly think I would try to make her forget her own mother."

"I can't say what you would or wouldn't do, Steve. It is in your nature to do whatever gets you ahead."

The doors dinged again.

"I will have a close relationship with Chloe. If you try to stop that, you'll regret it."

Lauren left the elevator and Steve lost in his thoughts.

Steve went through the motions. He worked, he ate, and he slept. He continued his nightly ritual of looking over the books before he went to bed. He continued checking in on Chloe one last time before going to bed himself.

He didn't think looking at Chloe was ever going to become easier.

She was Jennifer in so many ways. And now, he noticed for the first time, there wasn't anything that he could really say was "him". Even her eyes – her bright blue eyes that people gushed over – weren't his. True, they were the same bright blue color and shape as his own – as all of his family really – but looking into them, he didn't see himself reflected back. He saw his father's eyes looking back at him and he grimaced inward.

To top it all off, Chloe did not have the gift.

Despite this, he tried. He tried doing activities with her, he tried talking to her – but as always, and Chloe ended up bored and wanted to play with her imaginary friends instead. It hurt, seeing that even imaginary companions were more entertaining than him. But he would leave – as he always did – and soon he would hear her laughing down the hall and for an instance, he could pretend that Jennifer was still alive.

Years went by and they continued on. Somewhere along the way he and Chloe had come to a mutual understanding. He would try his best and she would try not to hold it against him. Given the circumstances, it was the best Steve could hope for. He threw himself into work. The business was successful beyond his wildest dreams. He had taken the company to a global scale. He had contracts in most of the European Union, he had a few promising developments in Australia and Asia.

Their balance was thrown off when Chloe had – he didn't even know how to describe it. Mental break? Over active imagination? Hallucinations brought on by stress?

He flew back as soon as he could from Berlin. It didn't sit well that he knew it would be Lauren who would be the first to see her, to try to explain what would happen. It would be yet another thing for Lauren to add to her vendetta against him.

But Chloe understood.

He looked into the room that Chloe was in. It was so large compared to her. She had always been a small child but seeing her in this place, the hospital gown, it made her look like a doll. He pulled up a chair next to her bed and sat down. He watched her sleep and when she stirred, patted her hand and gave her assurances the best he could.

She didn't mention it to him when she had woken up to find him there. No, instead, he went with something more causal – her red streaks in her hair. It seemed like an easier starting point.

Steve watched her intently, trying to remain calm. She had changed from a wild child to a very demure one – a normal change, as several child psychologists reassured him. He tried not to think of the hospital, but she looked so much like Jennifer, it was hard not too.

A nurse came in and gave her some more medication, and soon, Chloe was back to sleep.

Steve drove Lauren and Chloe to the Lyle House. He kept a vigilant watch on the rear view mirror, watching Chloe sleep in the back seat. He ignored Lauren's cold indifference. It had already been seven years of it, although he couldn't remember when they were this close in proximity.

It felt _wrong_, his gut told him. Whatever happened to Chloe, there had to be a better way. Money was not an object – he would pay whatever or whomever to make this better. But, he sighed, Lauren was a medical expert and had contacts in various fields. She wouldn't just send Chloe to a place she found in the yellow pages.

He pulled up in the driveway and stopped the car. Chloe was still asleep. He stepped out the car and grabbed her bags out of the trunk.

He watched her as Lauren shook her awake. Chloe stumbled through the tour of the house while he and Lauren followed. He took a look around – it wasn't the most welcoming of places. He was torn about this – surely he could have found a place that seemed less sterile than this. He set down her bags at the foot of the bed and hesitated. Sure, while he had left Chloe overnight in places, those were under normal circumstances, sleepovers and summer camps.

He watched as Lauren embraced Chloe, struggling not to cry.

He gave Chloe a hug awkwardly. It was a long journey back to where they had started out, where she would leap into his arms and he would spin her around. His heart ached for those simpler, more joyful times.

"I'll stay in town until this is over. I'll visit as soon as they'll let me," he promised. He gave her a roll of twenties and kissed the top of her head, wishing that he could think of something more meaningful to do, something else to drag this out.

He and Lauren didn't exchange any words as they went down the stairs and outside to the car. They got inside the car and began the drive back to the hospital.

Steve rested his head against the headrest of his seat. Simply being around Lauren was exhausting. He had expected her to lay into him the moment they had left Lyle House but she was eerily quiet. He had a hunch that she was keeping something from him.

He got out of the car and grabbed his luggage – he had gone straight from the airport to the hospital and stayed there while Chloe's arrangements were being made – and headed inside. He wasn't used to the house being this quiet.

He set his bags in his room and went to Chloe's. He looked around – it was much too neat. Annette must have cleaned it sometime while Chloe was in the hospital. It was much too neat looking – Chloe's whirlwind would have books scattered on the floor, magazine articles half clipped, and sticky notes on local movie times or lectures about the arts from one of the local colleges.

His eyes drifted to her bed. How many bedtime stories had they read together? Or how many times had he checked under the bed for the boogeyman?

"She must have packed her necklace," he said to himself. He remembered how long Jennifer had looked for something to help Chloe's fear of the boogeyman, and consequentially, the dark. They had tried everything – night lights, stuffed animals, "monster spray", and prayer – nothing worked. It was one of the few times he remembered Jennifer being at odds with Lauren.

He remembered that they were arguing over the "best" way to handle things. Lauren insisted that Chloe was simply letting her overactive imagination get the best of her and that she'd outgrow it. Jennifer had almost turned into a mother bear, her tone with Lauren simply told her to get out and stay out of the house for a while.

It took a while before Jennifer found something that worked. He wasn't sure why, but Jennifer had found an old pendant of her great-great-great grandmother's and had a jeweler put a hook on it for a chain. He wasn't sure – trusting a little girl with something that old? While he was sure it wasn't valuable and most likely just cheap costume jewelry, something about it just seemed off.

Chloe, however, took to it with absolute glee. It was like magic – overnight, she never had a problem with the boogeyman or the dark. While she still had her imaginary friends, it didn't seem as though she had as _many_. Steve chalked it up to her simply maturing.

She never took it off.

She had to have it.

Despite her insistence, he still insisted that she was his little girl. She was fifteen now and she wouldn't be little for much longer. He eyed the shelf next to her bed and his heart sped up.

Ozzie.

He grabbed the well-loved koala bear and sat on the bed. He looked into the stuff animal's eyes.

"She may need us a bit longer, Ozzie."

He went back to the car and sped back to the Lyle House.

He knocked on the door, trying to ignore the blinding flood light that was causing him partial blindness.

One of the nurses – Talbot? – answered the door.

"Is there something we can do to help you, Mr. Saunders?"

"Yes," Steve answered, stepping in uninvited. "Chloe forgot a few things and I'm just dropping them off for her."

"Excuse me, Mr. Saunders, you can't do that," she replied. A name surfaced – no, not Talbot, Van Dop.

"I'll be in and out quick. I really have to drop these off myself. Precious goods and all," he smiled. Before she could answer, he went up the stairs and headed back to the room that he left a few hours prior. It was dark now – was Chloe still asleep? – and he gave a soft knock before he entered.

Chloe was lying on her bed, the blankets strewn across the bottom of the bed. He smiled and went over and tucked her back in. He pressed Ozzie into Chloe's arms.

"We forgot Ozzie. I wasn't sure you'd sleep without him," he murmured. Chloe replied by snuggling the koala bear close and breathing deeply.

Van Dop was waiting for him by the door with a scowl on her face.

He left without saying a word to her.

Steve looked at his phone. It was tempting to answer it – why shouldn't he? But if he did, it stood a chance that involved a meeting or an unhappy client who needed a face to face meeting half way around the globe. He had told his secretary to only forward the most vital of calls, but in the past thirty minutes, he had already let six calls go to voicemail. He didn't even want to think of what his email account looked like.

He drank his morning coffee. He still expected it to all be one bizarre dream – he'd wake up back in Berlin.

He finally caved after lunch and started listening to his voicemails. Some were urgent, others were merely people calling to give him their sympathies. He had told them that Chloe had suddenly fallen ill and that they were determining what treatment would be best. He had also given them full assurances that the company would continue to produce the same results, even if he wasn't at all of the meetings.

He was on the second to last voicemail when he knew that he wouldn't be staying in Buffalo for very long.

Shanghai. He had worked years to get a project off the ground there and things were looking promising – the only hold up was timing. He pulled up his calendar on his laptop and looked at his appointments.

If Chloe was schedule to get out in two weeks, he could shift his appointments around or designate them to someone, or worst case scenario, schedule a video conference instead. But – in order for that to work, he would have to take care of this Shanghai business as soon as he could get a flight out, which, he guessed would be tomorrow evening.

He called his secretary to set up the details and to make a note that he wanted at least a month off when Chloe was out.

He hung up the phone reluctantly. Chloe had taken the news of his business trip much better than expected. Lauren, however, performed her part as the shrieking know-it-all perfectly. It was made worse when Lauren had told him that the Lyle House nurses had called her asking about Chloe's necklace. He had hung up the phone before she become too creative in her swearing. He had only picked up her return call because he wanted to make sure that she had tracked it down – she had. It turned out that it was in a separate bin from Chloe's clothes since they had a new policy in securing any jewelry that a patient came in with. He felt incredibly guilty about it – if it had ended up lost because of him? Not only was it a family heirloom, but Chloe identified her mother so much with the pendant, it would have crushed him.

He looked at the clock. He would need to try to grab some sleep so he wouldn't be too off his game for the meeting.

"Steve, something happened," Lauren's voice cracked on the phone.

"Is Chloe okay?"

"We actually don't know. She's gone. She's not at the Lyle House anymore."

Steve thought he was going to be sick. Thankfully he was already sitting down.

"I'll catch the next flight back."

Lauren waited, wondering if there would be anything else, any insults hurled her way. They never came.

"I need to speak to someone in charge," Steve said. He was at the Lyle House, waiting patiently at the door. Inside he was raging, but this was like most things in business – if the client started things out on a harsh negative note, the whole meeting would be pointless. However, if the client started things out in a very calm and respectful way, it would be more than possible to rectify things.

He waited.

He waited all morning and heard nothing.

He walked out of the house, placed a call to his lawyer and the police. If Lyle House wasn't going to be cooperative, he would take things into his own hands. If he had to hire every P.I. in the country, he would do it in a heartbeat.

His lawyer urged him to think about the offer – such a large sum this early could provoke Chloe's captors into asking for more. The police urged him to keep her bank account active so they could track any possible transactions. The thought of freezing her assets never came across his mind – if she needed money, he wasn't going to deny her of it.

They waited.

They had a promising lead. A woman called in saying she saw a young blonde girl with red streaks being cornered by a large man. The police canvassed the neighborhood.

They didn't come up with anything new. The most they found out was what the local police department knew – runaways and the homeless would sometimes use the alleys as shelter when the weather grew nasty or cold. Otherwise, they mostly kept to the park.

Steve called his bank and signed up for a text alert for any activity on Chloe's account.

Days passed by and he noticed that less personnel were being assigned to the case. They had other cases, fresh ones, that was the rational or what Steve was told.

Steve waited.

Each day, less useful tips were called in until they stopped coming in at all.

Steve spent his month vacation checking the news, his phone, his email, the mailbox – anything he could possibly receive a message.

Three months after Chloe disappeared – they were further from finding her than when he was in Shanghai.

He stopped at the mailbox in the building. He took in a deep breath and turned his key. Nothing. He sighed and began closing it only to catch a glimmer. It was a postcard, no two.

He looked at the back of them – only to see that they were generic, no city or state location. And the postmark had different cities.

He looked at the first one he grabbed. It was from Lauren – he'd recognize her chicken scratch anywhere. It read simply:

_Chloe is fine. Expect a card soon._

His hands shook as he looked at the second card. It was from Chloe.

_ I'm good. When I'm done, I'll come back. It may be a while but _

_ I promise I will. Pinky promise._

Steve's heart surged – she was _alive_ and she was _okay_. His eyes watered up – pinky promise.

His first business trip after Jennifer passed, Chloe had made him pinky promise that he would come back as soon as he was done. It was done in those exact words. Her big blue eyes brimming with tears and only once he pinky promised and gave her a hug did she hug him goodbye.

"I'll be waiting for you, pinky promise."


End file.
